Hood River, Ore., has become a multisport paradise, hosting the Gorge Games.
By Tan Vinh | July 10, 2008
Some time about 10 or 12 years ago, the sport of mountain biking evolved -- seemingly overnight -- from a fast and easy activity in which the rider simply carved sweetly along flowing dirt trails to one involving fearsomely precipitous descents through heinous two-wheeled hell.
Riders began hucking themselves off rock ledges that a flying squirrel might avoid.
Helmets advanced from simple brain bonnets to the wrap-around tops of Vader-like full-body armor.
By Greg Johnston | March 6, 2008
Driving the wide sweeping curve below Liberty Bell, just past Washington Pass on Highway 20, I always fairly salivate as I begin the free-fall descent into the Methow Valley.
The mountain biking.
The trail-running series.
The ski trails.
The cowboy-horsey stuff that makes you feel like you stumbled onto the set of "Deadwood." (Minus all the four-letter words.)
The Sun Mountain Lodge. (Oooooh, pretty.)
By Mike McQuaide | October 19, 2006
Hike of the Week
"Uh-oh, we're on the wrong trail," I said to Lola Kemp, "I think we're going to Lily Lake." Don't get me wrong, I love Lily Lake, but our goal was Oyster Dome, a high point overlooking Samish Bay in the southern Chuckanuts near Bellingham.
Some consider Oyster Dome to be Bellingham's version of Mount Si, because getting to the viewpoint is strenuous.
By Karen Sykes | March 23, 2006
SKAMANIA COUNTY — It's a sun's-a-blazin', blue-sky, mid-summer afternoon and somewhere between Mount St. Helens and Mount Adams, Brian Mahon is playing coy. Straddling his mountain bike by the Squaw Butte Trail sign, he hides its difficulty rating from us. He's the only one who's ridden it before — thus the only one who knows what's in store — and for hikers and equestrians, we can see that it's been rated "more difficult."
"Move your hand, Mahon," orders one rider.
"Yea, come on," says another. "Let us see what we're getting into."
By Mike McQuaide | August 4, 2005
When most people refer to great "downhill" and thousands of vertical feet at Whistler, B.C., images of snow-swept slopes, skiing and snowboarding come to mind. But come springtime, downhill has an entirely different meaning here — especially to hardcore mountain bikers.
By Lori Hinton | July 14, 2005
The time has come for mountain bikers to load their steeds onto the trailer or roof rack and hit the road in British Columbia. Whether you're an intense technical freerider, hard-core dirt jumper or laid-back, cross-country cruiser, you'll find excellent riding in virtually every community.
The newest trend is mountain biking camps for novices and cross-country riders who want to learn challenging freeride skills. Whistler and Panorama are leading the way with lessons taught right at the resorts (full-face helmets, dual-suspension bikes and body armor are available for rent).
By Steven Threndyle | July 7, 2005
"Pumice headers" are best avoided but somewhat of a rite of passage for mountain-bike riders in the Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument.
Riding here at times can be like jogging on a floor of marbles, with the volcano views sometimes compelling you to take your eyes off the trail as you ride a tread of pumice nuggets and ash. But the landings are usually soft and harmless and, of course, you'll be wearing a helmet if you're properly prepared, which is essential here.
By Greg Johnston | May 18, 2005
Rather than becoming dormant in winter, many of British Columbia's small towns and villages ramp up the excitement. If winter adventures -- both soft- and hard-core-- quicken your pulse, here are a few possibilities:
Clearwater
By Judi Lees | January 20, 2005
FALL CITY -- You ride at night almost as much with your mind as with your body.
Your vision is a tunnel, cast by your headlamp. Logs, rocks, twists and turns in the trail come up quickly; you think fast or tumble. Unless it's steep, you tell by feel whether you're riding uphill or down.
When you stop, all you can hear is the quiet of the night.
It's dreamy or mesmerizing in a physical way.
By Greg Johnston | December 2, 2004
